We were only children
by Sigmaropi
Summary: Teen!Dean and Kid!Sam - childhood memories


There were few times Dean Winchester was ever truly annoyed with his father. But on that stuck out distinctly in his memory was such a stupid one.

They'd gotten report cards, him and Sam. Dean was pulling through, passing grades but nothing spectacular, because he didn't particularly care about school. Sam, on the other hand, had pulled straight A's, solid 90s in every subject. Dean wasn't surprised; Sam had always been a brainiac. But the problem wasn't the report cards. The problem was John, and the total lack of interest he showed. Dean, now seventeen, couldn't care less what his dad thought. He'd had years of little to no reactions to anything he'd been even remotely proud of. Sam though…Dean could tell he'd set himself up to high as soon as the kid had gone to their dad. He'd come home, face lit with a smile. Grades were one of the few things that Sam actually took pride in, and Dean knew that. The youngest Winchester had handed the report to their dad, eyes bright. But John had barely looked at it, glancing at it before dropping it on a nearby table. He was on the phone, talking about his newest hunt. Dean hadn't really been paying attention to his dad's words. He paid attention when Sam started speaking though. The kid's voice was animated, grinning from ear to ear. But when he'd seen his dad's lack of reaction, his face had dropped. Dean watched as his younger brother took the report back, his expression hurt as he retreated to the motel room he was currently living in, and closing the door tightly behind him. Dean felt anger welling up inside him. He hated seeing Sam hurt, in any way, and he shot a dirty look at his father before following Sam. He found the younger boy in the room they were sharing, methodically ripping the report into smaller and smaller pieces.  
"Hey, Sammy stop it," Dean said mildly, dropping to sit in front of his younger brother, putting his large hands over the smaller set.  
"He never cares," Was the reply that Dean received through gritted teeth. Dean realized they were gritted because Sam was holding back tears.  
"I care," Dean said, his tone filled with rare warmth, "I'm proud of you Sammy. And dad is too, even if he doesn't show it."  
Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes, as though he was searching for answers. Or just one answer, maybe. Without a second thought Dean pulled Sam forwards, hugging him tightly. Sam clung to his older brother, squeezing his eyes shut. Dean realized in that moment that this was how it always had been, and probably always would be. He was always cleaning up his dad's messes. Always watching out for Sammy when John wouldn't.

"Why couldn't you just look at it?" Thus far, Dean had managed to keep his tone controlled and even.  
"Dean, I don't have time for this, I'm working on a job," John didn't even look up from his notes as he spoke.  
"You're always working a goddamn job!" Dean snapped, finally reaching his breaking point. "It's always a new hunt, or an old hunt, or the demon," He knew he was pushing it from the look on John's face, but he couldn't seem to stop now, "Me and Sammy, we're here, now. We still need you, and you don't give a damn." The anger had fled Dean's tone. Instead there was just hurt, and betrayal.  
John stared at Dean, evidently angry, "Don't you take that tone with me. I do this to protect you both. Don't tell me I'm not there for you. All I do is watch out for you both," His tone was low, but all the more terrifying because of that.  
"We don't need a drill sergeant, dad. Sam's thirteen for god's sake. Why can't you just let him be a kid?" He didn't wait for an answer though. He stood, walking towards his room, and shutting the door behind him when he got there. He leaned against it for a few minutes, eyes closed. When he opened them and looked up, he saw Sam sitting up in bed, wide eyed.  
"I thought you were asleep Sammy," Dean said, trying to sound annoyed. He couldn't be annoyed though. He didn't have the energy.  
Sam didn't even say anything. He didn't have to. He stood, walking to Dean and putting his arms around the elder's waist, as tightly as Dean had hugged him earlier. Dean returned the hug, and had another realization. No matter what they went through, it would always be the two of them. If nothing else, they would have each other. And maybe that was all they needed.


End file.
